Behind Your Facade
by Hannaadi88
Summary: Arthur Kirkland- a straight A student with the perfect boyfriend. The envy of every boy and girl in school. Yet, something is wrong... terribly wrong.


_Behind Your Facade_

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Elizaveta, eyes sparkling with secretive knowledge, rested her chin leisurely on the back of her hands. The small group of girls crowded around her hushed and urged her on with their eyes, gleaming with anticipation. They leaned forward from around the lunch table, ignoring the entire bustle and eating around them. It was as if time stopped, only to be continued with the Hungarian girl's words.

"What do you mean, Arthur has a boyfriend?" Mei-Mei, the Asian of the group, half asked- half squealed lowly. Elizaveta's grin widened, taking up most of her face. Oh, how she loved discovering and sharing juicy gossip. Especially with her girls.

It was the common interest (defined by most as 'obsession') that brought these girls of different nationalities together. United, they formed the G.W- the 'gay watch'. With vigilance worthy of note they dedicatedly followed the love life of their fellow classmates. The gay ones, that is. What they loved more than watching these students, was the thrill of matching them up. But as independent pairings were rare, any new one was just as exciting.

And, under their noses, it seemed like their favorite victim- ah, classmate- Arthur Kirkland, had found himself a new boyfriend. Fancy that.

The girls began chatting excitedly, trying to guess whom this mystery man was, when their leader hushed them. Folding her arms across her chest smugly, Elizaveta waited for silence. They stopped talking and looked at her closely, curious. "Yes, Arthur has a boyfriend. An American university student, I heard. My reliable informant told me that they have already begun dating, but no kissing yet." The girls sighed in disappointment mixed anticipation. Natalia, somewhat suspicious, folded her arms and raised a doubting brow. "And who is your 'reliable informant'?"

At that, Elizaveta grinned. "Francis Bonnefoy, but of course." The name of the infamous romantic who collaborated with the G.W at times was more than enough to satisfy Natalia. If Francis said so, then it was true. Francis was never wrong.

A low chuckle was heard behind them. Not a second later, a certain French student was leaning against Mei-Mei's chair, grinning. His well-fitting uniform was in slight disarray, granting him a juvenile look. Today, he was sporting a ponytail and a stud earring that shone dully in the florescent lighting.

"I thought I heard someone say my name." He explained, flashing a smile. Elizaveta laughed. "Actually, yeah. I was telling everyone that you told me that Arthur has a new boyfriend." At the mentioning of Arthur's name, Francis's eyes shone with playfulness and a teasing smirk shaped his lips. "Oh, I carry more than just news."

With that, he presented the Hungarian with a photograph, taken out of his pocket. The girls jumped out of their chairs and crowded around Elizaveta, looking over her shoulder to get a better view. Eyes widened and mouths opened agape.

The boy in the picture flashed a charming smile at them, teeth a pearly white. Short blond hair framed his face and baby blue eyes shone through thin frames. The perfect American. But what made their hearts skip a beat was his clothes.

A light green buttoned-up shirt, ranks and badges on the sleeves. On his breast pocket was a wings- shaped pin. Air corps.

"You mean he's in the army?" "Oh, wow. Imagine it- Arthur's got a man in service!" "How awesome is _that_?"

Francis, amused, placed his hands on Mei-Mei's shoulders and whispered seductively in her ear, loud enough for the rest of the group to hear. "Alfred Jones, nineteen years old. An NYU student, serving in the air force for the year. A real catch." Grinning knowingly, he left the table, humming cheerfully to himself.

-X-

"_Can I sit here?" Arthur turned his head away from the screen, scowling. Who walked into a movie in the middle? A tall stranger stood next to him, eyes him in expectation, waiting for an answer. It was dark in the movie theater, and it was hard to make out his features clearly. Nevertheless, the Briton grunted in assent, shifting slightly in his velveteen seat. The American- it seemed, by his accent- smiled happily and seated himself next to the Brit._

_Arthur rolled his eyes in annoyance, trying to concentrate on the film. But it was no use- ever since the initial interruption, the Brit hadn't been able to return and relate to the storyline. And it was the stranger's entire fault, trying time and time again to converse with him during the movie. Didn't the guy have any manners? Well, thank you Mr. American. Good money, wasted. _

_So was it any surprise that he hurried away as fast as he could in the end, not stalling to talk to that nuisance? _

-X-

Sighing in relief, Arthur reclined in his chair, head tilted backwards. His arms were stretched behind his head, reaching out as far as he could. After such an intense test, the Englishman always enjoyed a thorough flex of the muscles. Able and fit body came with an able and fit mind, which he had put into good use. Mathematics had never been his strongest subject, but he had really applied himself for that exam. In fact, he hadn't gotten that much sleep the other night due to his boyfriend's tutoring… and other activities.

Alfred, his boyfriend, was a high school graduate and a math major. In the process of applying for one, in any case. Surprisingly enough, the seemingly dim-witted American he had met at the movie theater turned out to be a whiz at math. Who'd have thought? With his help, Arthur actually had hopes for his final grade in such a troubling subject. He was fine with everything else- English, literature, social studies… he even passed gym. But math was a different case entirely. But with Alfred assisting him, the Englishman may have actually aced his test.

Smiling to himself softly, he closed his eyes for a well-deserved rest. Recess would be done in about ten minutes, so any relaxation was welcome. Compared to the test, though, even physics seemed like a breeze.

"How'd your test go?"

Opening his eyes reluctantly, Arthur saw a pair of eyes peering over his face from behind him. Startled, he straightened up, almost knocking into the other's head. Blinking rapidly, he turned around, ready to apologize. Mei-Mei, the Taiwanese girl that sat behind him, had a secretive smile forming on her lips, waving away Arthur's apologies.

An awkward silence settled between them, and being the gentleman, Arthur felt obliged to say something. "Er… Oh! My test went fine! Yours?" To that question, the girl simply raised a brow, a surprised look on her face. He suddenly remembered how she was one of the top students in his math class and mentally slapped himself- of course her test probably went well. She was one of the first to hand it back in. But to his surprise, his question had not been the thing to amuse her.

"You mean you actually think you passed the test?" She tilted her head, apparently puzzled by the absurdity of her question. Arthur Kirkland had never been good at math, and never stopped showing his frustration with the subject. For Arthur to say that his test had gone well was like to say that Popeye hated spinach.

The Englishman felt his cheeks redden. "O-of course! Why wouldn't I be able to?" To that, he simply received a bored stare. Fine, he knew what he was capable of… and what his weaknesses were. "I got someone to help me with it. Does that satisfy you?" He scowled, pursing his lips.

But to his astonishment, the girl's eyes simply grew in disbelief, and then to his horror, into that same secretive grin. "A certain American soldier, perhaps?" She said softly, her voice almost unrecognizable.

Carefully noting Arthur's stiffening of the back and widened eyes, the Asian's grin widened. "So it's true! Francis was right!" She turned and waved to a group of girls from the other side of the room, calling out to them. "Hey girls! Guess who's been getting private lessons from his prince charming?"

A couple of gasps and shrieks later, a swarm of excited girls surrounded him, all eager to hear what this was all about. Wishing nothing more than to bury himself someplace remote and take the bloody frog with him, Arthur braced the questions, face reddening with each inquiry.

"So he _is_ your new boyfriend! He's _soooo_ hot!"

"Of course! After all, Arthur wouldn't settle for anyone less than stunning."

"What are you talking about, Natasha? Arthur isn't that shallow- I bet the kid's got brains too… It looked like that in his picture-"

"Whoa, hold it!" The Englishman exclaimed, talking for the first time. "What picture? Who gave you-?" His eyes caught a smirking Frenchman, saluting him with a wink from the class's doorframe. Glaring back at him, Arthur managed to mouth out to him '_I'm going to bloody kill you Francis_,' before another girl joined the crowd and blocked his view. Damn Frenchie.

Chestnut hair suddenly in his face, Arthur blinked and pushed it away to find Elizaveta sitting on his desk, eyes sparkling with sinister intent. Well, at least it looked like it. He scowled at her, knowing full well that her presence would actually require answering some of the personal questions he had been bombarded with. The girl was reasonably nice and caring when she was normal… But it seems that muddling in others' love life sparked something within her.

Ignoring his frustration, the Hungarian grinned down at him. "So Arthur. I've heard Alfred is in the military…?"

The Englishman didn't even bother asking her how she knew Alfred's name, or who told her that he was in the military. The sneaky French bastard, no doubt. Instead, he decided to face her off and tell her everything she wanted to know. That was the only way to get rid of her and her swarm of fan girls.

"Yes, he is." He informed the crowd curtly, with an edge of pride in his voice. His confirmation elicited a number of gleeful gasps and shrieks of excitement from the girls around him. "Oh. My. God. I always wanted a man in service!" One of them exclaimed, jokingly fanning herself at the idea. Another girl looked at him with admiring eyes, but he could hear the envy in her voice when she congratulated him.

Cheeks burning at the attention, the Englishman cleared his throat and stood up. "I really must be getting to class now." And without further ado, Arthur picked up his books and made his way through the surprised swarm. As he was about to leave the room, Francis popped out of nowhere (probably wooing some innocent girl in the back of the classroom), opening the door for him and bowing graciously. "Farewell, princess. Will you be seeing prince charming anytime soon?"

The only answer he received was a punch in the face and a great deal of muttering from a certain Brit as he escorted the other to their next class.

-X-

_A knocking on his door early Sunday morning woke the Englishman up. He curled into a ball under his covers and groaned, burying his head underneath his pillow. But he couldn't ignore the insistent knocking forever. Bracing himself, he rolled out of bed sleepily and put on a dark blue robe, trying to straighten his hair a bit while trudging through the hallway. Bleary eyed, he opened the door, muttering a throaty "'ello"._

_Standing sheepishly_ _in front of him, looking slightly nervous was a young man- no older than twenty. With his cropped blond hair and sky blue eyes framed by a thin pair of glasses, he looked oddly familiar. But at such an early hour, Arthur couldn't remember from where. "Are you Arthur Kirkland?" The stranger asked, peering down at him with a small smile, studying the Brit._

_Raising a brow and pulling the robe closer around his body self-consciously, he frowned. "Yes, I am. How may I help you?"_

_Flashing a relieved grin, the stranger shot his hand forward for a shake. Arthur hesitantly took it, taken aback as it was pumped enthusiastically. "Alfred F. Jones at your service! We met last night at the movie theater, remember?" He beamed happily at the other, waiting to hear recognition in the Englishman's reply. _

_Oh, Arthur recognized him now, all right. He couldn't believe that the prat from the other night had actually tracked him down. Nevertheless, it was too early to be angry for no reason, so he simply plastered a fake smile on his face and pulled his hand away from the other's grip._

"_Oh yes, nice to see you again. Alfred, was it? Er… If you don't mind my asking, how did you find my house? Come to think of it…" he took a step back, a suspicious and weary expression replacing his smile. "How do you even know my name? Are you a professional stalker or something?"_

_While someone might have been offended by Arthur's accusation, Alfred surprisingly enough gaped at him before laughing aloud, not taking much notice of the other's bewildered face. "Of course not! People like me aren't stalkers. It's just that I found _this _while I was walking back home, and I recognized you from the picture." He flashed a brown wallet from his pocket, grinning and waving it in front of Arthur's face before handing it to him. _

_Arthur was stunned. Surely enough, after a thorough look, the wallet the American handed him was indeed his. He hadn't even noticed that it had even gone missing! A confused but grateful smile formed upon his lips, thick brows furrowed in thought. There was a considerable amount of money in that wallet- all he had to live on for the next month. Living and supporting himself alone, every dollar counted. _

_A fifty-dollar bill and a couple of quarters were all that his wallet contained. And yet, Alfred didn't take a thing for himself, and even brought it back to him! _

_No one ever did that. Not for him, in any case._

_"T-thank you!" he stumbled, looking from the beaming face to the brown leather object. "This means a lot to me." Arthur bit his lip, suddenly realizing something. "I… I don't have anything to give you as a prize, though. I don't have much."_

_Once again, to his surprise, Alfred blinked and looked at him with a slightly confused expression. "A prize? For what?"_

_The Englishman could have mentally slapped himself. For all of his good deeds, the other obviously lacked basic social awareness. "A prize for brining me back my wallet, idiot. What else?" he snapped at him, suddenly wishing he could close the door and leave Alfred stranded on the steps. He immediately regretted his words, though, realizing that perhaps he was the one who lacked common curtsey. The guy had just retrieved his wallet, and all he gave in return were a couple of sharp words. He cringed, biting his lip._

_Alfred simply smiled. "Oh, for that! I don't need a prize." He waved the offer away, rolling his eyes as if the mere offer was preposterous. But seeing Arthur's scandalized expression, he sighed and thought for a few moments before his face brightened. _

"_Well, if you insist… how about a date?"_

_The Englishman blinked. A date? Wasn't that assuming too much? Sure, Arthur had an eye for men, but that didn't mean that he'd fall for every man on the street… Why did the other want Arthur's company, anyway? This Alfred F. Jones was a mystery._

_Hesitantly, he looked up to the waiting American, a long and forlorn answer forming in his mind, about to reject his offer. But when he opened his mouth to say it, he met the other's eyes, and a soft 'yes' slipped through his lips. He was shocked, and apparently so was Alfred. But shock immediately turned into satisfaction as the American beamed down at him, a mischievous glint in his eyes. _

_Why hadn't he been able to say no?_

_Alfred wasted no time in setting a time and date, telling the other when he'd pick him up. The whole time he continued to mention 'people like me' and 'stuff that I do' whenever the Englishman tried to find out where the guy was taking him. Frowning, he already began to regret his commitment. _

_When the American turned to leave, he had one last question. "You kept on mentioning your 'special talents' and personality. What are you, exactly?" he asked Alfred in a slightly miffed tone. If the other turned out to be a fraud, he'd regret the day he had been born. _

_Alfred turned his head; somewhat surprised that Arthur had the audacity to even ask. "Well, isn't it obvious? I'm a hero!" he proclaimed with a grin. And with that, he was gone._

_Great. He promised to go out with a nutcase. _

_-X-_

Par usual, the journey back home took well over an hour. The many buses in the city that passed him every so often never seemed to be the one he needed, infuriatingly enough. He'd walk a block from the school to the bus stop, wait there for about half an hour until the damned thing came, and then would get off at a different stop. He'd have to interchange busses and then walk an additional ten minutes until he reached his apartment.

A big pain in the neck, especially in the mornings.

But he had taken the commuting blues into account when he had applied for his school. His high school, well known for its prestige standards, was prime choice for a lawyer wannabe like him. It was the golden moment of graduation that shone in his mind's eye and pushed him forward on days that he didn't want to even get out of bed. He had paid a lot for that school at the other side of town, and he intended on using every day to gain as much profit from it as he could.

Arthur Kirkland, a lawyer? What a joke. If his old friends could see him now, they'd think he was pulling their leg. Not that he had any friends then, but that was beside the point. Why would the shy and crowd-flustered Brit want to work as someone who constantly spoke out loud, sprouting accusations and conclusions galore? Why work with the lowest of classes- defending them and setting rapists and burglars free?

Because he belonged with them. Those poor people who had nothing in their lives to continue living for, and no one to live it with. The rejected, the broken and the damned. He was one of them. Or at least, he used to.

It started with his father's habit of working overtime. Arthur would wait on the steps of his house at age eleven, waiting for his dad to come home from the ministry. He worked next to the mayor's office, he used to boast to his son, who in turn drunk it all up and spread the word to whoever cared to listen. His daddy, rubbing shoulders with the rich and powerful.

So rich and so powerful, that they had a lot of work, and as their helper daddy needed to stay later and later each day to fix things up for them, his dad explained to him. Eventually, Arthur would retire to bed before he even saw his father. Whatever they were doing up there in the ministry, it was probably very important for his father to stay all hours. Though, it had started to become quite aggravating, not seeing one's dad for such long periods of time.

His mother probably thought the same thing. One night, when daddy came back from work in the early morning, mum had been waiting for him. Tucked tightly under his covers, Arthur tried to stifle the sounds of their bickering and his mother's screaming. It ended eventually with the slam of the door and high-pitched sobs coming from the living room.

He had hesitantly opened the door to his room and shuffled quietly to his mother's shaking figure on the couch, face hidden behind her hands. When she raised her gaze and spotted Arthur, the crying had stopped momentarily and she smiled fondly, beckoning her son towards her. Safe in her embrace, he could hear her whispers of reassurances. It would be okay, she said. Daddy would come back.

But she was wrong. His father had abandoned them in favor of a different woman, the agency informed them. Resigning and taking all of their savings with him, he ran off with his lover, leaving his wife and son alone to fend for themselves.

No one had cared when mum worked harder for money to support the both of them. No one cared when they had been refused dad's social security benefits. No one had cared when she passed away as well, the stress and worry finally taking their toll.

But he cared.

Arthur cared about all those that lost their way in the complicated bureaucracy of life. He knew how they felt all too well. If he had a chance to perhaps help those rejected by society and stand up for them in court… Perhaps it would be able to repent his own blind eye to others' misery. His own blindness that prevented him from foreseeing his father's abandonment. Catch those who fell in time before they were thrown into jail, doomed for life.

But no such serious or depressing thought passed his mind as he made his way home that day. He was protected from the cold December wind by the thought that Alfred was in his apartment, waiting for him. Someone who didn't think his goals in life were silly or impossible, who actually cared about him and about what he had to say, was at that very moment awaiting his arrival.

_Besides, I still have to thank him for tutoring me…_

A small blush warming his cheeks even further, Arthur stepped off the bus and walked the extra ten minutes home, humming cheerfully as he did. Perhaps he would make them something to eat, instead of ordering in like the American insisted every night. He even paid for the two of them, the dolt, but he hadn't been able to see that his effort of educating Arthur in the 'American cuisine' was a lost cause. To Alfred's horror, McDonalds wasn't to the Englishman's taste, to say the least.

The Englishman climbed the stairs of his building to his apartment, digging into his pocket to retrieve the key. Fumbling with the brass object at the door, Arthur finally unlocked it and slipped the key back into his pocket before opening the door, smiling despite himself. Any moment now, Alfred would be there, pouncing on him.

…But no pounce or greeting came. The entire place was dark and quiet, just like it used to be before Alfred came into his life. Frowning, Arthur closed the door behind him and removed his coat quickly while issuing a raspy 'hello' into the air. When no reply came, the Englishman tensed somewhat as he walked through the hall, peering into the different rooms in search of his guest.

Finally, with only his own bedroom not checked, Arthur stopped in front of the door, shaking slightly. It was a terrible déjà vu- his father's abandonment all over again. Once more, he had been left to fend for himself by a loved one. Amid all of the other's promises, Arthur should have known better than to trust him. They were all the same, in the end.

Pushing the door open, the Brit came face to face with the forlorn reality- he was truly alone in his apartment. Biting his lip and blinking rapidly- he refused to shed a tear over such a bastard!- he almost missed a white piece of paper on his bed. Pausing in mid turn, he turned back to his bed and picked the curious paper up, reading the written words with a speeding heart.

**Arthur, **

**I'm sorry I left without telling you, but I was called up for an emergency and had no time to call. If I haven't called yet, then I'm probably super busy and can't answer the phone. Don't worry about me, okay? I'll be back with you before Christmas :)**

**-Alfred**

-X-

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_Hanna Chan's Blah-Blah Corner;_

_Hello, everyone! *waves* I've been starting a lot of things lately... but I feel the need to put this out for sheer neglect. The poor thing has been sitting around my documents aimlessly gaining dust while I worked on other things, and by the time I have time to continue it, I've lost the motivation OTL _

_In any case, this is up to point 5 out of 17 plot points. Meaning I have a long way to go ' Is there any interest for this? I have a million other fics to continue, but if I see that this has over five reviews, I'll continue it *nods*_

_This is made out of two separate timelines, with the italicized text being flashbacks. In the next chapter, you'll find out why the flashbacks are so important. If there is a next chapter, that is ^^;_

_Love you all! *hearts* Purim is coming up. Might write something cute for it. Oh, and happy international women's day! :D_

_-Hanna_


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